


The Letter

by onyxshinigami



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyxshinigami/pseuds/onyxshinigami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The letter itself was not unexpected.  The contents, however, were decidedly so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set post "Demands of the Qun".

The letter itself was not unexpected. The contents, however, were decidedly so.

It had been a very tiring day for Leaf Lavellan. He had promised Lady Montilyet he would catch up on all the paperwork she needed from him after his lengthy absence from Skyhold. There were documents to be reviewed and signed, trade agreements to be looked over one last time before finalization, and invitations to be reviewed, discussed, or debated over the merits of attending. Then there were letters of a more private nature, ones written by nobility requesting assistance or favours from him, though still related to Inquisition business. Those were the trickiest; ones Leliana kept separately for him and passed along with her own notes and recommendations. Those he needed Josephine for the most.

They had met for breakfast and worked through both a shared lunch and supper. Outside his windows, Skyhold had bustled on; the noise of everyday life drifted up occasionally to the Inquisitors balcony. Leaf had insisted they work from his private room. If he was going to be held to a desk for the day, he needed light. Josephine had been most accommodating.

The sun had disappeared hours ago. Leaf and Josephine had lit candles to see them through the final few letters on the desk. They were both exhausted, Leaf more so than Josephine, but they were determined to fulfill their duty. They both sighed in exhausted relief when they reached the last letter. It was from Keeper Istimaethoriel and Leaf bade Josephine goodnight, thinking the letter personal, though potentially unpleasant.

Josephine had departed only moments ago. Leaf’s instinct had been correct; the letter was deeply personal.

Leaf turned his gaze from the letter to look out at the night sky. He felt at odds with himself. Hollow and filled with white, pure, rage.

*** *** ***

_“Crushing, choking, pushing me down. Can’t think. Can’t breathe. How dare they. I did everything they asked. Gave everything. This one thing is mine. Eyes glaring, weighing, judging. Smirks, lying smiles, sneers. You’ve never wanted me. None of you ever wanted me. What do I you want from me?! I won’t!”_

The Iron Bull stared at Cole from across his uplifted tankard, a few drops of ale spilling onto the wood. Cole had been mostly silent all evening, humming along with Maryden’s songs, laughing with Krem at some silly story he was telling. The rush of words broke forth so suddenly, so furiously, the table was silenced. Cole’s fingers were rigid claws on the tabletop. Krem, Stitches, and Skinner shifted uncomfortably for a moment before silently and quickly excusing themselves, the other Chargers following quickly behind, leaving the Iron Bull at the table with Cole.

“Something you need to do, kid?” the Iron Bull lowered his tankard to the table. He wasn’t exactly used to Cole, but he had become a little more familiar with the weirdness. Cole spoke such things when they needed hearing, even if you didn’t always understand who needed to hear it. Maybe someone could help, or understand, or even just listen. Listening helped a lot of people. It also allowed the Iron Bull to learn a lot, keeping him both alive and employed.

“He’s hurting. Deep, dark, hard. Pain pulling at the threads. Undoing all the warmth. All his happiness. It’s vanishing. They stole it again.” Cole’s fingers flexed, releasing their tension, scratch-tapped the wood of the table, his head waving side to side. “Gone.”

The Iron Bull felt a sudden coldness in his belly. “Cole, who is hurting?”

Strangely blue eyes lifted from the table, clear and sharp beneath a fringe of pale hair. “You know.”

*** *** ***

The Iron Bull left the tavern, stalking across the courtyard to the stairs leading up into the heart of the keep. He hadn’t seen Leaf since they parted ways last night. He wasn’t much help against a mountain of paperwork, so he had made himself useful in other ways today.

Who Cole meant had been clear enough, but what could be happening was another matter. If the Inquisitor was in any physical danger, the Iron Bull knew Cole would have been flying across Skyhold to his friend’s side. Leaf had taken to Cole despite everyone warning him to keep away from the strange thing they thought pretended to be real, but was really real. Cole would defend the elf, his friend, to his last breath. So it was a different kind of pain then, a different hurt, and probably something much more difficult to deal with than a simple assassin.

As the Iron Bull opened the door leading to the Inquisitors room, he felt it. It was that weird kind of quiet. The kind you get when something horrid has either just passed, or is waiting to begin. The Iron Bull climbed the stairs to the Inquisitors loft, listening, breathing deep to scent the air. It was cold; smelling like the mountain stones after rain. He could feel something crawling up his spine, writhing in the air over his skin, and making his horns tingle. Lightning about to strike. Leaf specialized in Ice and Storm magics; but the Iron Bull had never felt it so strongly outside of the battlefield.

It frightened him.

“Hey Boss, I was wondering…” The Iron Bull’s falsely-jovial tone fell silent as he topped the stairs and saw the Inquisitor standing behind the ruins of his splintered desk. Frost radiated out in spirals along the walls and floor from where the elf stood, a soft crackling that seemed so very loud in the silence. It reached to the ceiling, had literally frosted the glass of the windows, and had very nearly reached the top of the stairs. A quick scan around the room revealed the frost had begun covering the foot and pillars of the Inquisitors bed.

“Boss?” he tried again, quietly. Leaf hadn’t looked up; appeared as frozen as the room, his face a mask of rage the Iron Bull had never seen before. “Leaf.”

The Inquisitor’s ears twitched and he flinched, turning quickly with blind eyes towards the sound. Ice mist whirled around his fingers; lightning jumped between the tips. Leaf’s eyes darted wildly before settling on the Iron Bull.  
The Iron Bull watched, on guard, ready to fling himself down the stairs and out of the magics way if need be. It was the eyes he needed to see; to read. He remained unmoving, quiet, waiting. He watched as Leaf struggled up from the depths of his own mind, breaking through to reality. He saw the mindless rage crack and fall away to confusion, then worry.

“Bull…” Leaf lowered his head, eyes closing tight. He sagged where he stood, his shoulders dropping inches, shrinking into himself. He looked suddenly exhausted. “It’s … I…” Leaf shuddered, raised his hands to rub his face furiously. “I’m sorry.”

The Iron Bull watched silently as the frost began to vanish with a simple gesture from Leaf’s twig-like fingers. He listened as the elf cursed to himself in his native tongue while seeing the wreckage of his desk for the first time. He felt the energy in the air crackle and draw away, lifting like fog in the morning sun. He waited.

“Did you need something?” Leaf asked as he bent over to retrieve a book from a pile of splintered wood. Flat, calm, cordial tone. Court tongue. Leaf’s time spent with Vivienne was showing.

“Cole seemed to think you might need something,” the Iron Bull replied. Sometimes with Leaf, being honest was the thing that threw him off guard the most. While the Iron Bull had no intentions of upsetting his lover any more than he clearly was, he knew how utterly silent Leaf could be when he wanted to lock something away.

“Cole?” Leaf snapped up, whirling to face Bull, concern and fear etched across his face as clear as his vallaslin. The Iron Bull held up his hands in a placating gesture and began to move slowly across the floor.

“He’s fine, and he didn’t really say much. Well, not much many people could understand. Not that many people would remember it anyway, if he doesn’t want them too.” The Iron Bull kept his tone low and soothing, a deep rumble that generally put Leaf at ease. “He just seemed to think you might need some help.”

“Strange. If he felt-. I’m surprised he didn’t come,” Leaf bent down once again and sifted through the wood once more, retrieving a few more books and a couple of papers that might have been scrolls. He made no further attempt to speak, so the Iron Bull watched and waited. With his books gathered, Leaf walked over and deposited them in neat pile on his bed. He then turned his attention back to the kindling.

“Bonfire, boss? I could go get some of those fluffy sugar balls from the kitchen?”

Leaf’s laughter was a short, surprised bark. He shook his head. “Thank you, no. Just, I need a second to remember…” his voice trailed off as his minds’ eye turned inward. A sage mist flowed from his forearms enveloping the ruined desk. The Iron Bull observed as the pieces and fragments fit themselves – no, as the pieces and fragments were fit together by Leaf’s magic, knitted whole once more. A moment later, the desk was whole, as if what had happened had almost never been.

“Good as new, minus the scorch marks,” the Iron Bull chuckled.

Leaf hummed but remained still, frowning and displeased.

“Ah. It’s nothing a good bucket of water can’t fix.” When Leaf remained silent, the Iron Bull softened his tone, reaching out. “It’s not like you to take anger out on inanimate objects.”

Leaf shut his eyes, turned away, locked Bull out of a large part of their usual conversation.

Leaf avoided eye contact. Most times when he talked to people, he never met their eyes at all. The Inquisitor’s gaze washed over others, quickly lowered, raised, shifted away. When he sat in judgment, his eyes were lowered to the floor, half-lidded as he listened and thought carefully. The Iron Bull had earned Leaf’s trust, his gaze. It had taken time, longer than Bull would have thought, and he cherished every glance they held. Now, Leaf was not looking at the Iron Bull. He wasn’t speaking either. It was frustrating knowing something was wrong and not picking up any hints of what the cause may be.

The Iron Bull watched as Leaf drew in a long, deep breath, opening his eyes, looking at the dawnstone buckle on the Iron Bull’s harness. The elf was still struggling against whatever had set him off and he didn’t want anyone around to see this. Leaf never wanted to be seen struggling. He was determined to remain strong in public. There was so much riding on him; the reputation of the Inquisition, the fate of the Dalish if many nobles had their way, the livelihood and safety of even city elves were in jeopardy if the elven Herald of Andraste proved false in any way. So many lives, and they weighed on him dearly.

“When Grimm talks more than you, we have a problem.” The Iron Bull approached the elf slowly. It was unlikely Leaf would lash out, but it was always good to be cautious around mages, especially when their nerves were very visibly frayed. He reached out and gently rested his hands on the elf’s shoulders, noted the flinch. “I’m here, Leaf.”

“There was a letter.” The words were rushed, rough as if they hurt to come out. “The Keeper apparently saw fit to send one of the clan here a few weeks ago to ‘check’ on me. They saw us in the courtyard. They left. The Keeper is most displeased.”

“You expecting trouble?” the Iron Bull’s mind began to formulate plans. He’d have to keep an extra careful eye on new arrivals to Skyhold. He wasn’t familiar with all the faces in Skyhold, but Skinner, she could keep one hell of a sharp eye out on his behalf.

“Not anymore.” Leaf shuddered. “I’ve- I’m no longer... They don’t want me anymore.”

The Iron Bull brushed his knuckles over Leaf’s cheek, idly following the branches of vallaslin under Leaf’s brilliant blue eyes; eyes that still would not meet his. “You’re leaving a lot unsaid.”

Leaf pulled away from the Iron Bull’s touch, folding his thin arms around himself and backing away. He turned and walked out onto his balcony facing the mountains. The Iron Bull waited a moment before following. Leaf needed time, space, and the reassurance that someone would wait, would listen.

The mountain winds were cold, but not unbearable. The waning moon lit the sky well enough to see. The stars peeked in and out behind distant waves of cloud. It was peaceful. It might have been enjoyable if he wasn’t so worried. He stood behind his lover, the position offering both distance and support. He felt Leaf shiver. He doubted it was from the night air. “I’m here”, he thought “I’ll wait.”

They stayed like that for a long time. The wind played with Leaf’s long brown hair, drifting it across the Iron Bull’s arms and occasionally tickling his chest. When they lay together in bed, the Iron Bull allowed himself the indulgence of pressing his fingertips to the shorn sides of Leaf’s head, the soft hair tickling and sending shivers of pleasure through them both. He felt privileged when Leaf allowed him to comb and groom the thick mane that remained, running in waves and curls down the elf’s back. Once, just once, Leaf had let him braid his hair. It looked lovely, but Leaf told Bull he felt too bare, too exposed without his hair half hiding him.

Leaf kept a great deal hidden.

“A few months ago,” Leaf began quietly, “I received a letter from the Keeper. They were- there were negotiations taking place with another clan. Apparently, I am very enticing. The Keeper indicated I should bond with the First of their clan. All very properly arranged. You’d think I was some noble human, and not an unwanted hunter’s child.” 

The pain and venom that laced those last few words hurt them both.

“I sent back a polite refusal, of course. I have no idea if I will survive, this.” Leaf lowered his head, tucking chin to chest for a brief moment. He shook his head sadly before turning his gaze to the night sky. “And I have more personal reasons for refusing.”

“The Keeper must have been thinking along the same lines. They sent along someone to spy on Skyhold, on me. Probably around the time I returned from Val Royeaux with Josephine. They saw me kiss you, probably in the courtyard, could have been in the tavern, I don’t properly care. Either way, they fled back to the Free Marches with their news. A few days ago, I received a letter from my- from the Keeper. _“End whatever it is with the Qunari. Whatever bargain you struck with your body for the beast’s servitude must end. Your clan requires your service.”_ Leaf hissed. “They were going to continue the negotiations on my behalf and send the First when everyone was in agreement. Everyone but me, it seems.”

Leaf was shaking. The Iron Bull doubted it was from the cold. He wanted to reach out, pull Leaf back into his embrace, hold him tight, promise him impossible things to take the pain away. He held still; remained silent. That wasn’t what Leaf needed right now.

“I- I may have lost my temper in my reply. That you were no beast. That there was no bargain struck beyond a standard mercenary contract, and that not even writ by my own hand. That my service to the clan does not relieve me of free will. That my body is not a tool to earn the clan freedom of passage. ” Leaf’s voice was getting tighter, rougher as his anger rose. “I refused to be a bargain, a gambit of clans. They will not take what little freedom I have from me and they will not take me from you. I won’t let them!”

Leaf whirled around, reaching out and grabbing hold of Bull’s harness with both hands, digging his fingers under the leather straps tightly, pulling himself towards Bull. He pressed his forehead to the cold dawnstone buckle, as if it could drive away the pain inside. 

“I won’t.” The words were a whisper, shuddering out unbidden. Desperate and angry and afraid.

The Iron Bull lowered his head, resting his chin on the top of Leaf’s soft hair. He hugged Leaf close, holding him tight, almost painful, echoes of Cole’s voice in his mind. 

Silence now. Time for calm; reassurance of physical presence. The Iron Bull held Leaf tight, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, held the elf’s ear over his heart. Let the blood rhythm work its soothing magic. Solutions later, calm first.

“I am forbidden from returning to the clan. Shunned. Exiled. Dust.”

The Iron Bull couldn’t think of a single thing to say; the shock was too great. Exiled? For what? Refusing a betrothal? For being seen with a qunari? For disobeying his Keeper? What were the implications for Leaf and his clan? The Inquisition had offered them protection before. Would Leaf now order the soldiers back home? Would Clan Lavellan turn on the soldiers that had been protecting them?

Selfishly, his thoughts turned to his own circumstances. He had been away for so long. He had made a family, something he never should have had. He had a choice to make; orders to follow. Gatt pacing to his right, blade glinting, barking and angry. Leaf standing quietly to his left; his blind side.

_“Call the retreat.”_

_“Don’t!”_

And the Iron Bull chose.

“Leaf-“

“I’ll have to notify Josephine. I’m sure Leliana will know soon enough, if she hasn’t read this already. I’d rather… I don’t want anyone else to know. Let me deal with this. I can’t have-“ Leaf choked back a sob. “I couldn’t bear it right now. Please.”

He understood. The others would probably handle the news and their concern for Leaf a little more cautiously, but still. The constant inquiries, no matter how well intended, would just be salt on a very bloody wound. Solas would be insufferable, disdaining as he was of all Dalish. Leaf didn’t need that right now. Sera would probably put her feet right down her own mouth as soon as she found out, though she wouldn’t mean anything by it at all. Or she’d make Leaf cookies. He didn’t need that either.

“Leaf.”

The elf shook his head, would not look up. Bull tightened his arms around the slender form, cupping one hand around the back of Leaf’s head. The grip would be almost painful, but Leaf needed this. He needed something to hold on to. Yet again his world was upended, spiraling dangerously out of control. He needed a focus, a refuge, an anchor. For the moment, the Iron Bull could be those things.

For the moment, it was enough.

“Let’s get you inside. It’s cold.”

Leaf allowed Bull to guide him back into the room. The Iron Bull shut the doors behind them, hoping to keep the chill out. “I’m going to stoke the fire. It’s pretty chilly in here.”

“I’m sorry.”

It took Bull a second to process what the statement really meant. Leaf thought the room was cold because he had lost control of his magic; had frozen the room himself. He couldn’t even think this moment that things were not his fault. The Iron Bull worked the fireplace quickly as he spoke.

“It’s not you.” He reassured. “We left the doors open the entire time we were out there. It doesn’t take long for the mountain air to suck the heat out of anything.”

“Still. I should have been more careful.” Leaf ran his fingers roughly through his hair, clawing and tearing roughly when the curls tangled. Bull moved quickly to his side, grabbing Leaf’s thin wrists, pulling them to his chest. Leaf looked up in surprise.

It was the first time he’d looked into the Iron Bull’s eye that night.

“No one was hurt, except you. You lock away pain, fear, frustration and it’s bound to escape, one way or another. I want to help. Cole wants to help.” Bull released Leaf’s wrists to cup the elf’s head between his hands. Leaf reached up and placed his small hands over Bull’s. “We can’t help if you shut us out.” Bull lowered his head, pressed a firm kiss to the twin peaks of Leaf’s unruly hair. “Let us help. Let me help, Kadan.”

The Iron Bull felt the shiver run through Leaf’s body. He didn’t think it was due to the night air this time.

“I’m tired, Bull.” Leaf whispered. “I’m just so tired. I can’t-”

Bull hushed him with a whisper.

“Rest. Undress; lie down. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

“… thank you”.

The Iron Bull helped Leaf unbutton his shirt before Leaf moved out of his arms, crossing the room to his wardrobe. He watched the elf undress, moving as if every joint in his body ached. He watched Leaf slip into a pair of sleeping pants and crawl into bed. Leaf looked so small in that massive Fereldan thing. Leaf crawled under the sheets and reached out, asking Bull to come to him. 

Bull smiled fondly. He unbuckled his harness, dropping it onto the couch near the foot of the bed. He sat on the same couch to release the brace around his left ankle before removing his boots. He finished undressing, draped his pants over the arm of the couch, and turned to bed. He slipped under the sheets, shifting to lie on his back. He smiled when Leaf handed him a cylindrical pillow that rested under the back of his neck perfectly. That pillow had appeared the third time Bull had slept in this room. It was grey, with pale pink piping. Bull loved it. It meant he was welcome, wanted, needed.

Leaf waited until the Iron Bull had adjusted his pillow and settled in comfortably before moving into Bull’s welcoming arms. Leaf draped a leg possessively over Bull’s massive thigh, reached across Bulls chest to grab Bull’s hand twining fingers together before resting his head over Bull’s heart. Bull wrapped his free arm behind Leaf’s back, his hand resting comfortably on Leaf’s hip.

“Do you need anything?” he whispered, selfishly wanting to hear Leaf speak once more.

“Stay. Please. Just… stay.” Leaf’s fingers squeezed Bull’s. He returned the squeeze.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sound Leaf made was something between a sigh and a sob.

The crackling of the fire and the sounds of their breathing were the only other sounds for the remainder of the night.


End file.
